


Those Who Remain Will Haunt Us

by lyekissedfist



Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, Rose Red (TV), Rose Red - Fandom
Genre: Adult Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough is a Good Friend, Eddie Kaspbrak Gets Divorced, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Ghost Sex, Ghosts, M/M, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Minor Bill Denbrough/Audra Phillips, Modern Era, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Canon, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Talking To Dead People
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-24 06:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30068172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyekissedfist/pseuds/lyekissedfist
Summary: Six months after the events in Derry that nearly killed Eddie, he and Richie have moved to Seattle, Washington to get away from all the bad memories. They think they're in luck when they find an extremely nice condo for a reasonable price. The area is good, the neighbors are quiet, and it seems the perfect place to start anew. Unfortunately, things are never so easy for members of the Losers Club. If they'd known the condo was built where Rose Red once stood, they would have never bought it. Now they're stuck and the ghosts of the pasts aren't so easy to get rid of.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Nick Hardaway, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rose Red is probably my favorite Stephen King movie of all time. It is definitely my favorite of his ghost stories. It's cheesy and fun and manages to be creepy at the same time. I've also recently become quite obsessed with Richie and Eddie so I wanted to try and combine my two loves.

There were tears on Richie’s cheeks. He’d been whimpering and mumbling for the past half hour in his sleep. Incomprehensible phrases. Shouts of fear. Quiet mewling that made him sound like a terrified, injured animal. His limbs had tensed and his teeth ground together, snapping shut with a sharp voice. He’d clawed at the sheets, digging his hands in as he cried out. For half an hour he’d been lost in whatever fear had twisted itself around him. Strangled by unknown horrors.

Compared to sleeping, waking was a much calmer affair. There were no dramatic proclamations, no sobbed out “no”s. He exhaled softly and he was conscious again. His eyes opened and he blinked several times before pushing himself onto his elbows and turning to meet Eddie’s gaze. “Again?” Richie asked, sleep and sadness roughing his voice. 

“Mhm.” Eddie was propped up on his side, a deep furrow between his brows and his lips curled down.

Sighing, Richie allowed himself to plop back onto the mattress and closed his eyes. There was a mild ache in his limbs and his jaw hurt. “Anything new this time?” 

Eddie’s fingers were soft against his cheeks, thumb brushing beneath his eyes as he wiped away the tears. “Not really. You called out for Bill a few times and mumbled to yourself. Couldn’t really tell what you were saying though,” he said.

Richie tilted his head towards the touch, his lashes fluttering slightly. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” he murmured. 

“It’s fine. At least this time you didn’t smack me in the face.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I still feel guilty about that.” 

Every couple of weeks it was the same song and dance. Richie would have a night terror and then wake up crying without any memory of what he had been dreaming. He didn’t even know if it was a dream. More likely than not, he was reliving memories that he wished he could forget. The sewers. The werewolf. The _fucking_ spider-creature-monster-thing. That horrifying moment he thought he’d lost Eddie forever. 

Eddie chuckled and rested his cheek head on Richie’s chest, warm breath tickling across the skin. Richie’s fingers were in his hair without hesitation, stroking through the soft strands. 

“I don’t know why you still feel bad. It wasn’t anything that you could control. Plus, you made it up to me and then some so I really can’t complain,” Eddie said. 

“You can complain though. I smack you in the face. I gave you a blood nose. I am the worst boyfriend on the face of the planet. I don’t deserve to be forgiven. You should be kicking me out of your bed right now. I am Trash. Pure, stinking Trash.” Richie paused for air and then continued. “You have trash in your bed, Kaspbrak. How can you stand it?”

Eddie yawned and tapped the tip of his finger against Richie’s stomach. “Beep beep, Richie.”

“But it’s true.”

“You just want me to compliment you and tell you how great I think you are.” 

“Well duh. I am a praise vampire. If you don’t feed me praise, I will wither away and die.” 

“That’s what your fans are for, Richie. If you’re hungry, go online and find some people fellating you. I’m tired and we have a lot of unpacking to do tomorrow.” 

“But I’m not tired anymore.” Richie traced the scar on Eddie’s cheek and then touched the swell of his lower lip. “Maybe you could fellate me instead.” 

“Jesus Christ, that is a terrible come on even for you.” 

“It’s not that bad. Remember last week?” 

A week ago Richie had gotten it into his head that there was nothing more seductive than coming out of the shower, dripping, butt-fucking-naked (he’d _hoped),_ and performing a sexy dance. Unfortunately Richie could not dance. He’d ended up flailing around and thrusting his hips a few times before slipping on the puddle he’d created and landing on his ass. Eddie had been laughing so hard that he’d nearly passed out from lack of air, sprawling on the floor next to Richie. They’d had sex that night, but Eddie made sure that Richie knew it was _in spite_ of his attempt and not because of. 

“Mhm. You still have the bruise on your ass,” Eddie said. 

“Do I?” Richie wiggled his hips a bit, trying to feel if there was still a sore spot.

“Yes and if you say something stupid about me kissing it and making it better, I will smother you with that pillow and not have a single regret about it.” 

“Too tired for a blow job, but wide awake when it comes to murder. I see how it is Eds. Your love only goes so far.” 

“Keep talking and you’re not getting any sex until you get back from your tour,” Eddie warned. 

“No! No. Don’t do that. I’ll be a good boy. A _very_ good boy. I’ll be nice and quiet so my Eddie can get back to sleep. You won’t even know that I’m here,” Richie said, honey dripping from his voice. 

He hadn’t even wanted to go on tour in the first place. He’d told Eddie multiple times that he would cancel so they could spend more time together. It had only been six months since...everything after all. But Eddie was insistent that they needed to get things back to normal. He was planning on working from home once Richie was gone even though Richie personally thought they deserved far more of a break after defeating a cosmic evil.

Eddie nuzzled his cheek against Richie’s chest, the thick hair a familiar tickle. Richie never wanted to go to sleep after he’d had an episode. He was always afraid that he’d sink right back to where he had been and it would start all over. It didn’t bother him when he was alone, but when he was with Eddie he hated it. It embarrassed Richie. It made him feel weak. The last thing he wanted was to feel weak around the man he was in love with. The man who had nearly died for him (and their other friends too, sure). He wanted to be brave for him, but at his most vulnerable, he couldn’t be. And the was more terrifying than the dreams he couldn’t remember. 

***

Moving was awful. Not quite as bad as some of the things Richie and Eddie had been through, but pretty fucking awful all the same. There were boxes stacked in every room of the house, seeming to multiply every time they looked away. Richie and Eddie were trying to combine their lives. They’d found the perfect place up in Washington. Far, far away from their old lives. Away from Maine. Away from Derry. And very importantly, away from Eddie’s ex-wife. They’d wanted a fresh start. A place that belonged to them without any of that old baggage. 

“Do you really need four whisks?” Eddie asked from the kitchen. 

He was standing at the sink, going through boxes and putting away what he could. All the utensils he found went into the steaming, soapy water he’d filled the sink with so that he could properly sanitize them before they were put up. Richie could see him through the door from his spot on the living room floor where he was going through Eddie’s boxes of books and putting them in alphabetical order (Eddie’s request).

“They’re slightly different sizes and I use them for different things.” It was bullshit, but Richie didn’t want to admit that he’d bought them when trying to impress someone he’d wanted to screw. 

“You can have one. The rest are going into the donation box,” Eddie said, pursing his lips. 

“What? Why?” 

“Because we are not cluttering up our new condo with useless junk. So pick one or I’ll pick for you.” 

Richie poked his lower lip out, attempting to make his eyes big and pathetic behind his glasses. It didn’t work. Eddie turned away and held the whisks above his beloved donation box. “Fine, fine. You win. I want the one with the blue handle. We can get rid of the rest,” he said.

‘Thank you,” Eddie chirped. The three abandoned whisks clattered into the box and the chosen one splashed into the water. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

“Hmph.” 

Richie wasn’t really upset and he didn’t really care about the whisks themselves, he just liked when Eddie was bossy, encouraging it as much as possible. It managed to be both cute and hot. In a few days he would be leaving to go on tour so he wanted to get his fill of everything he loved about Eddie. More memories to replay during those lonely hotel nights when they were apart. 

“I’ve given up things for you,” Eddie pointed out. 

“Yeah, but that pinky ring was absolutely hideous so I was really doing you a favor.” 

“It was _expensive_. The man at the jewelry store said it was very stylish.” 

“The man at the jewelry store conned you, Eds. He wanted your money. He didn’t care if you went around looking like an idiot,” Richie said, shaking his head in disappointment. 

He had seen few things as cursed as that damned pinky ring Eddie had shown up wearing in Derry. It had been so jarring to see it on Eddie’s hand, it had cut through the dizzying spinning in his head as all the childhood memories rushed back. So hideous that he wouldn’t have been surprised if that was what his night terrors were about. 

“I didn’t look like an idiot!” Eddie stopped his rummaging and washing and turned to face Richie with a glare. 

“You are never allowed to go shopping for jewelry without me ever again. When it comes time for marriage and proposals, I am the only one allowed to pick out the rings. You have no say,” Richie said. It came out easily, without any thought. There was no doubt that one day they would be married.

Eddie’s gaze softened and he cocked his head to the side. “Well, I hope that you’ll at least have the good sense to wait until my divorce has gone through before doing something as rash as proposing,” he said. “My lawyer would probably have a heart attack if I got engaged so quickly after leaving Myra. Would ruin our case or something.” 

Earnestly, Richie rose onto his knees and gripped at the sides of the box in front of him. “Don’t worry. When I do propose, it will be perfect and nothing will be in our way. It’ll be a moment that you’ll never forget. It’ll be the happiest day of both our lives.” It was the least that Richie could do for Eddie. It was what he deserved.


	2. Chapter 2

Eddie didn’t want Richie to leave. He’d told Richie to go, that it would be the best thing to do for the sake of his career, but he hadn’t really meant it. Not deep down where those uncomfortable thoughts and gnawing doubts lived. He wanted Richie to be there with him and only with him. He didn’t want him touring clubs, meeting attractive people who wanted nothing more than to add a semi-celebrity to their black book of sex. He didn’t think that Richie would cheat on him, but Eddie worried that he’d realize what he was missing. Anonymous hookups in alcohol filled green rooms. People who kissed his ass so hard it left behind marks. Strangers who were more exciting than a forty-odd year old risk analyst whose idea of a crazy time was eating dairy in front of the TV and going to bed right after. Richie said all the right things to reassure Eddie and they worked, right up until it was too quiet and his brain started in overdrive to think of all the terrible things that could happen.

Of course, his brain didn’t stop at Richie meeting interesting people who he would want to fuck. He worried about Eddie’s plane crashing even though he knew planes were safer than cars. He worried about food poisoning. What would happen if there was no one there to take care of Eddie if he ate something bad? He could die of dehydration! There were also car accidents to take into account. Mysterious illness picked up. Unhealthy food that could clog Richie’s arteries and give him a heart attack. Eddie worried more about Richie than he did himself and that was saying something. 

The night before, he’d gone through the medicine cabinet and put together a nice little “sick bag” for Richie. He’d stuffed it with aspirin, mucus reducers, cold medicine, flu medicine, a rainbow assortment of vitamins, and antacids. Anything that they had that he felt would be useful. It still didn’t feel like enough. 

“You know I’m not going into the rain forest. If I need anything, there will be stores nearby,” Richie piped up. He sat on the edge of their bed, watching Eddie attempt to fit the overstuffed “sick bag” into his already full suitcase. 

“What if the store is closed when you need it?” Eddie asked. 

“Most places have twenty-four hour drug stores.” 

Lips pressed together tightly, Eddie shook his head. A muscle in his jaw pulsed and with a grunt, he managed to get the suitcase zipped back up. The top of it bulged a bit, but he was sure that it would be under the weight limit. “You never know. It’s better to be safe than sorry.” 

Richie rose from the bed and walked up behind Eddie, hooking his arms around his waist. He rested his forehead against the back of Eddie’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “I don’t have to go,” he whispered. “I can cancel and stay here with you.”

“We’ve been over this. I don’t want you to cancel and I’ll be fine on my own. I am an adult who can take care of myself.” Eddie was terrified to be on his own, but he wasn’t about to have Richie put his life and his career on hold because of his own irrational fears.

“I know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you too,” he said. 

“How am I supposed to be the trophy husband if my famous boyfriend decides to stop working?” 

Richie slid his fingers up under Eddie’s shirt and touched the puckered line of flesh where IT’s leg had punctured his chest, nearly killing him. “You know I love when you stroke my ego...among other things,” 

Eddie rested his hand on top of Richie’s through the thin material of his shirt, unable to help the smile that spread across his lips. “You’re such a perv Tozier,” he said, squeezing his hand. 

“And you like it Kaspbrak.” 

“Hm. Maybe.” 

***

It had been six hours since Richie had gotten in the cab and left the airport. Six hours since they had kissed goodbye and Eddie watched the cab pull away into the early morning sunrise, leaving him choking on the scent of exhaust. Things were quiet in the house. So damn quiet without Richie and his constant blabbering. Without the sound of his laughter and dirty jokes. Richie filled the condo with his presence when he was there. Everything seemed vibrant and warm when he was there. Without him, Eddie felt surprisingly empty. He supposed  _ real _ love was feeling like a part was missing when your partner was gone. 

Well, it was cruel to Myra to imply that what he’d had with her wasn’t real love and he’d already been so horrible to her in ways that she didn’t deserve. He had loved her. There was a part of him that still did. It was a far, far different kind of love though. Comfortable and easy, Eddie never had to put much thought into his relationship with Myra. She was like his inhaler, like the pills that he took to stave off imagined illnesses. She was familiar. He knew what to expect. He didn’t have to work at it because he’d already gone through it once before. Richie was... _ different _ in the best possible ways. Everyday with him was an adventure. They’d known each other as children, but they’d been apart for so long that he was discovering new things about Richie all the time and the things that hadn’t changed increased his fondness. For the first time, in a very long time, he felt as though he were really living. He supposed a near death experience and long coming love confession was good for a lot of things.

“Like making you reevaluate your entire life.” Eddie spoke up to the ceiling he was staring at, but it did not respond.

Body creaking and cracking, Eddie rolled to face the back of the couch. Plenty of plans had been made on how to spend his time alone, but since Richie had left, he hadn’t wanted to do any of them. It was like the moment Richie was no longer around, all the energy had been sapped from him and he felt his age. Exhaustion clung to him like spiderwebs and his knees hurt from being bent so that he could fit completely on the couch. 

Pressing his face against the cushions, he groaned. “So goddamn old.” It was barely the afternoon and Eddie was already wanting to take a nap. 

Richie would have made fun of him if he were there. Eddie didn’t know if it was the endless amounts of coffee he consumed or something biologic, but Richie never seemed to wear out. He kept going and going. Talking and talking. On and on…

***

_ The hammering started in earnest the moment Eddie fell asleep.  _


	3. Chapter 3

_ The taste of metal was sharp on his tongue and Eddie carefully adjusted the nails in his mouth so that they poked from the corner. Less of a chance to swallow them and ruin his chances of ever completing his soap box car. Squinting in concentration, he lined up the head of the hammer with the nail he held against the wood and reared it back. Then he thought better and checked to make sure he was on target once more. An unspoken condition of his project was that he not injure himself in any way. No swallowing nails. No busting his thumb. No broken bones. Cuts. Bruises. Scratches. Nothing. Already a careful boy by nurture, Eddie had to be doubly careful whenever he worked one his car. It was rare for his mom to give him the freedom to do something she would normally consider so dangerous and he was not going to ruin it.  _

**_Bang! Bang! Bang!_ **

_ He smacked the nail into the wooden body of the car, leaning back on his feet and examining it. It had gone in straight and if his mouth wasn’t full of potentially deadly sharp objects, he would have smiled. He selected another nail, lining it right below the other one and narrowed his eyes again. He lifted the hammer and- _

_ “Eddie Spaghetti!”  _

_ Eddie jerked and the hammer fell from his hand, clattering on the floor of the garage. It was pure luck that he hadn’t ended up gasping in the nails. He’d swallowed a penny once, when he was a lot younger, and that had been an ordeal. He couldn’t imagine what his mom would if he inhaled something sharp. If it didn’t kill him by impaling his organs in a gruesome way, there would no doubt be tons of ER trips, lots of tears, and yelling. So much yelling. At the doctor’s. At the nurses. Never at Eddie. The sobbing, gasping, smothering were for Eddie.  _

_ Spitting the nails from his mouth, Eddie glared over at the partially raised garage door. Richie was peering through the small gap at the bottom, his cheek pressed to the ground and his broken glasses crooked. “The fuck Richie! Are you trying to kill me? I’m working here.” _

_ “Sorry Eds.” A big grin spread across Richie’s face and he didn’t look sorry at all. Not one bit.  _

_ Eddie turned his face away from Richie. “Don’t call me that,” he sniffed. He started to collect the scattered nails, pinching them between the tip of his fingers and setting them back in the box.  _

_“Aw. C’mon Eddie. Don’t be mad. You know I didn’t mean to scare you.” Richie was pouting. Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know that. He could picture Richie’s face perfectly. His lower lip stuck out to a comical amount. The tape that held his glasses together peeling off. Hair sweaty and messy. Everything so completely and totally_ ** _Richie_** _that it made Eddie’s stomach feel weird._

_ “You can’t just come yelling into other people’s houses. It’s rude.” Eddie rubbed at his cheek, turning on his knees towards Richie. “Plus, my mom will get mad if she hears you.”  _

_ It wasn’t necessarily the yelling she would have a problem with, it was Richie. Of all his friends, Richie was the one she seemed to hate the most. Maybe that was why he liked being around Richie. It was something he knew would upset his mother. One tiny bit of rebelling that he was willing to do.  _

_ “This is the garage. Not the house. House rules don’t apply in garages. Duh.” _

_ “Maybe your garage, but this is my garage and it’s rude.” Eddie stuck his chin out defiantly.  _

_ “Whatever! I’m coming in.”  _

_ The pulley system of the garage door squeaked as Richie started to shoulder it open. A few more inches and he was able to wiggle his thin frame into the garage. He dragged a bag from the drugstore in behind him, the plastic crinkling. He stood up once he was in, dusting off his clothes carefully.  _

_ “I didn’t invite you in,” Eddie protested.  _

_ “I’m not a vampire Eds,” Richie said. A smirk flickered on his lips and he folded one of his arms in front of his face, covering the lower half. “Or perhaps...I am! Eddie, I vant to suck your blood! Wahahaha.”  _

_ Eddie rolled his eyes and picked up his hammer. “Can’t you see that I’m busy. I don’t have any time for your childishness.” He tried to sound as grown up as possible but all Richie did was laugh.  _

_ “C’mon Eds, I brought candy and comics. Can’t you leave that thing alone for a while and hang with me? I got you an orange soda too!” Richie waved the bag back and forth temptingly.  _

_ Pausing, Eddie turned towards him. “Where did you get the money for all that?” he asked.  _

_ Richie grinned and sat next to Eddie, dumping the bag out. “I did some chores for that old lady across the street and she gave me some. With my allowance, I’m rich!”  _

_ Their shoulders were almost touching and Eddie’s stomach did that weird wiggle thing again. Almost like he was going to be sick, but he didn’t feel sick at all. The glass of the soda bottle was cold as he picked it up and he turned towards Richie. “Tha-”  _

Bang! 

Eddie rolled off of the couch, waking up with a sharp pain shooting through his elbow and the cold of the wooden floor sinking in through his clothes. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and stared up at the living room ceiling. After being thrust from his dream of a long ago time, it took a moment to center himself and remember where and when he was. It wasn’t summer. It wasn’t childhood. There was no soap box car. He was older. His body was full of mysterious aches. His skin and psyche scarred even deeper. More importantly, he wasn’t in Derry, he was in Seattle. In the condo that he owned with Richie. Their “little love nest” as his idiot boyfriend liked to coo when he wanted to go home and bone. 

His elbow still throbbed, but Eddie smiled and sat up.  _ You’re such an idiot, Trashmouth. Some things never change _ . The thought fluttered around in his head as he got to his feet, knees cracking.  _ And some things do change.  _ A part of Eddie was sad that they waited until middle age to end up together (though he knew that it wasn’t entirely their fault). He never would have considered himself a stone cold stunner, but in his twenties he was definitely a lot more flexible than he was now. He also didn’t have nearly as many panic attacks since he’d only nearly died a few times, not two fucking handfuls of times. 

Eddie was nearly to the kitchen when he noticed an odd sound. It was faint. Buzzing just low enough that it was almost impossible to hear. He furrowed his brow and walked towards the living room wall, straining his ears. It was still no more than a whisper, sounding much farther than the next condo away, but Eddie knew what it was. Sawing and hammering.  _ Construction.  _


End file.
